


There was Blood

by SassyLassy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9827321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyLassy/pseuds/SassyLassy
Summary: Happy 2nd Roadrat Week day! Today's prompt is 'First'. So I went with a classic and how they met.





	

The dust was settling, and it made the air thick and filthy. Vision blurred, hardly helped by the lenses of his mask, Roadhog grunted as he pushed himself up from his knees. He had just been settling in for the night, the air had been surprisingly cool despite it being Summer. But then he’d heard shouts and screams, distant explosions that readily grew closer and louder with every passing moment. Defenses up, he’d grabbed his hook and shot gun, and headed towards the door that hid him from the world in this pathetic little house he’d taken over for the night.

Then it had exploded, and Roadhog had been thrown back by the power of the blast. Screams had filled the air, the stink of blood and death fresh under his nose, and he’d gotten to his feet. There were a few bodies. Three junkers of various age, was one a woman? Hard to tell but they were dead. Parts of them missing.

“You!!” a voice broke the rough silence and Roadhog turned his head, glaring in the direction of the voice. “Are you Roadhog?”

Dust began to settle and he saw the owner of the voice. Some skinny guy, hair a blaze of fire, eyes as wild as the flames in his hair, and covered in filth that was cause by not just the dust in the air but filth in general. He was splattered in blood too. Honestly, he looked like a typical Junker, complete with the missing limbs.

“Who wants to know?” Roadhog asked, finally to his feet, observing the young Junker critically through the mask.

“Junkrat wants to know! And I’m him, Junkrat, me!” the answer came brightly, excitedly, but also with a mild dash of panic in his voice. He rushed forward, his eyes bugged out, glowing a soft orange hue. “I know ‘bout you, mate. I know all 'bout what you’ve done, bloody amazing, changin’ the world like that! But I ain’t here to talk about the old days,”

Roadhog watched as the shorter (but not by much he was surprisingly tall though it didn’t feel like it) Junker bounced around him like a puppy wanting to play. “You’re good at killin’ folk right? Utterly wipin’ em off the face of the planet that folk forget they existed at all?”

“…yeah.”

“Great! I’m in need of a body guard 'n I been hunting for you these past few months. You’re a hard hog to find my fat friend let me tell you!” Junkrat clasped his hands together, gaze fixed on Roadhog’s mask. “So how 'bout it? Want a job? Fifty fifty, anythin’ I steal half of its yours no matte what it is! You name it! Let’s get the Hell outta this shit hole we call Australia!”

This was a lot to process, and quite the proposal. Roadhog had lived a relatively quiet life for a Junker all these years. Ever since his birth, at the death of Mako, Roadhog had known the road. He knew violence, blood, death, pain, suffering. He’d heard of this Junkrat kid. He had a treasure. Something important. Something that put him on the wanted list of almost every bounty hunter in Australia. Imagine that, every bounty hunter after you. Lesser men would be dead already.

Yet here stands Junkrat. Limbs missing. Hair on fire. He’d survived despite all of those wanting his hidden treasure. Most would underestimate him, like these poor bastards. But he’d blown them up, hadn’t he? He’d showed them, those who underestimated him.

“Hello? You hear me, ya big lug, or does that mask cut off your hearing too??” he asked, impatiently.

“Mmmff.” Roadhog exhaled a heavy huff. “Yeah I hear you. Even deaf people can hear you.”

“So whaddya say? Wanna see the world, fat man? Wanna get out of this Hell Hole and see some of it before the radiation poisoning kills us both?” he was clearly the impatient type, already moving as if he was ready to leave if the answer was no.

Roadhog moved away, and picked up a glove and pulled it onto his hand slowly. “Half of everything?” he asked.

“Yeah mate! Got me word as a Junker,” Junkrat thrust his right hand forward, palm open. “Whaddya say? Want in?”

Junkrat's face fell when Roadhog’s huge hand closed around his own. He hadn’t really acknowledged or taken in how huge this man was. He was even taller than him! But his arms, they were thick and solid. His stomach heavy and tattooed. His hands could easily smother his face as if it were nothing, and he easily wrapped his small hand in his large one. It made him feel a little tingly though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

But they shook hands, in the remnants of this burning house, bodies around them, Junkrat stained with blood and soot while Roadhog stood there powerful and intimidating.

“This is the start of a beautiful partnership, mate! You won’t regret it!”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Roadhog warned.

"Aw mate," Junkrat grinned, "That's how I work! Better get used to it!"

Oh boy. What had he gotten himself into.


End file.
